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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008366">Red</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday'>wednesday</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writing Rainbow [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Vampyr (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood Drinking, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:08:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,314</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008366</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you all right, Dr. Reid?” It’s a sign of how not all right Jonathan is that the voice startles him. It doesn’t take him long to place it, however. He doesn’t know many young ladies that dare walk around at this time of night.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlotte Ashbury/Jonathan Reid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Writing Rainbow [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1472090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Writing Rainbow Red</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Red</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopTalkingAtMe/gifts">StopTalkingAtMe</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
“Are you all right, Dr. Reid?” It’s a sign of how not all right Jonathan is that the voice startles him. It doesn’t take him long to place it, however. He doesn’t know many young ladies that dare walk around at this time of night.
</p><p>
“Good evening, Miss Charlotte. I am… well. Though I am somewhat in a hurry.”
</p><p>
Charlotte looks him over with doubt clear on her face. “Oh, the way you’re clutching your side does positively scream well,” she says. The gleam in her eyes makes him reconsider lying; he’s clearly not good enough a liar to fool her, not tonight.
</p><p>
“It’s nothing serious. You know I no longer...” he trails off, for a moment worried that Charlotte might not be the only resident of West End that he hasn’t noticed in his distracted state. It takes him a surprising amount of effort to extend his senses and make sure they are indeed alone for now.
</p><p>
“Show me, then.” The question catches him wrong footed. He can’t remember if he’s shown any of his injuries to, well, anyone since his change. It’s rather hard to explain deadly wounds that are gone in minutes.
</p><p>
Charlotte, however, seems to run out of patience quickly and starts to push his coat aside. His attempts at stopping her are futile, not that he tries very hard.
</p><p>
He winces at the thought of Charlotte anywhere near his blood, knowing her thoughts on her own mortality. With the state London is in, though, there are probably easier ways for her to get vampire blood than accosting him while he’s injured.
</p><p>
“You’re quite, ah, forceful for a young lady,” he says with another wince, this time purely from the way she accidentally presses on the worst of the wound.
</p><p>
With his coat not hiding it, the damage is quite horrid. He would be hard pressed to save any other man with such an injury.
</p><p>
Charlotte gasps at the sight. Instead of being afraid, though, she looks around quickly and pushes him several steps backwards, into a shadowy doorway. Then she takes another, closer look.
</p><p>
“Oh my goodness, what happened?”
</p><p>
“A run in with some men that don’t appreciate people that wander the streets at night.” Not all people, he hopes, but certainly everyone with his deathly pallor.
</p><p>
“Why hasn’t it healed yet?”
</p><p>
“Ah, that’s a rather...” He’s not sure how to continue. A rather private question? That seems a silly thing to say, when they both know what he is.
</p><p>
In any case he sees in her face that Charlotte comes up with the answer herself.
</p><p>
“Well then,” she says, and draws a breath that’s a little too shaky for her determined tone. “I can help with that.”
</p><p>
“Charlotte, <em>no</em>.”
</p><p>
He tries to put some of his power into his voice, but he’s too weak and too stunned at the offer. Charlotte’s expression doesn’t waver at all.
</p><p>
“Don’t be silly. You can’t walk around like this. You couldn’t escape me, never mind those <em>vampire hunters</em>.” It’s clear just by her tone that she holds the Guard of Priwen in no high regard. Or perhaps the very concept of someone hunting vampires is distasteful to her?
</p><p>
“I don’t drink human blood,” Jonathan says. It’s a lie; he certainly has, in the heat of the battle, but he’s made a point to restrain himself otherwise. It hasn’t doused the thirst at all. As thirsty as he is, he has to put great effort into seeing Charlotte’s lovely face instead of the red liquid flowing through her veins. The world around him is vaguely hazy and colourless, and he can hear her heartbeat clearly. Doesn’t think he could <em>stop</em> hearing it.
</p><p>
“You won’t get much of it from me, either, just enough to heal that,” she says and looks at his side again.
</p><p>
“I...” He wants to refuse, truly, but the sight of Charlotte unbuttoning the cuff of her blouse. It’s a small thing, yet it makes him lose track of his words. He can see the bright red veins under Charlotte’s skin at her wrist, all the way up her hand, to her heart.
</p><p>
“Dr. Reid. Drink.”
</p><p>
Charlotte’s wrist is only inches from his face, and he… He feels his fangs lengthen in his mouth and then feels the warmth as he grasps her hand.
</p><p>
He still manages to show some care to not bite too deep, to avoid the larger veins, no matter how much he wants to open them. He hears Charlotte’s quiet gasp at the pain as if through a fog. Then bright warm blood flows into his mouth and he hears nothing.
</p><p>
He’d thought his thirst for blood was monstrous, before, but it’s only now that he finally tastes blood for the first time, it seems. He can feel the life in it spread through him, mend his flesh at incredible speed. He can taste her fear and her excitement, her every feeling swirls into the blood like spice.
</p><p>
Two more mouthfuls and his other senses return, and last of all some of his common sense.
</p><p>
He gentles his hold on Charlotte’s hand, licks away the blood on her skin until the bite stops bleeding. Only when he raises his head and sees her dazed expression, does it occur to him that he could have stopped the bleeding some other way.
</p><p>
“I. Thank you.” A simple thank you seems inadequate, but it’s all he has to offer.
</p><p>
“You’re welcome,” Charlotte says. She sounds about as breathless as he feels. He gets a sudden urge to ask if it was anything like she expected – having a vampire drink from her, but he’s afraid of what her answer might be.
</p><p>
The sound of footsteps and voices echoing in the street break the moment of stillness. They both look in the direction of the noise and come to the same conclusion.
</p><p>
“Did they see you, when you got shot? Will they recognize your face?” Charlotte asks.
</p><p>
“I don’t believe so. It might not even be the same patrol.”
</p><p>
He has just enough time to jump up to a rooftop and out of sight, but he’s reluctant to leave Charlotte alone in the path of the patrol. He doesn’t know how suspicious a person has to look before they decide to shoot first and ask questions later.
</p><p>
The door they’re standing next to is locked, and while the doorway is shaded, it’s not nearly dark enough to hide them completely. Before he can consider any other way they might use to escape, Charlotte pushes him again, until his back is pressed against the door and then closes the remaining distance between them. Jonathan can feel the warmth of her body even through all the layers of their clothes.
</p><p>
She leans up, stands on her tiptoes, like she means to whisper in his ear. Then her lips press against his, and they feel scorching hot against his own coolness. He feels Charlotte’s hands on his shoulders and he allows himself to put his own arms around her. The kiss is very chaste for the close embrace they’re locked in, yet somehow all the sweeter for it.
</p><p>
It’s a very flimsy ruse, and as he hears the patrol come closer, he expects another fight. It doesn’t come, however. The footsteps pass them by and soon disappear around another corner.
</p><p>
Charlotte ends the kiss and Jonathan releases her immediately, more unsure now than with her blood on his lips.
</p><p>
“Seems like <em>I</em> ended up taking you to a shady corner and having my way with you.” Charlotte’s smile is happy and sly, and Jonathan can’t stop an answering feeling of joy from blooming in his chest.
</p><p>
“I did not mind,” he admits.
</p><p>
“You had better not!” Charlotte looks offended only for a moment and then bursts out in delighted laughter.
</p><p>
Just this once Jonathan is glad his night has turned out stranger than expected.  
</p>
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